


Make time stop (and listen for our sighs)

by JessicaMariana



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Arranged sex, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5184128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaMariana/pseuds/JessicaMariana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an arrangement between Hawke and Bran - they have sex every now and then (mostly when it suits Hawke). The both of them know that it's only because they can't be with the person they actually want to be with. And therefore fantasies of another person in their arms are acceptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make time stop (and listen for our sighs)

Her footsteps echoed off the hard stone floor outside the Seneschal’s office just seconds before the door flew open and Hawke stepped inside. Bran sat at his desk, quill in hand, signing various documents. He didn’t bother looking up. He knew very well who’d entered.

“Champion,” he sighed heavily.

“Seneschal Bran,” Hawke greeted him, a smirk on her lips. “Don’t get up.” Bran made no move to.

Hawke closed the door behind her and leaned against it. She pursed her lips thoughtfully and watched the man continue his work in silence. When he finally put the pen down and looked at her, Hawke approached the desk and sat down on the armrest of one of the chairs opposite him. Bran noted how the fabric of her trousers tightened around her thighs as she crossed them.

“Long time no see,” Hawke purred and raised one shoulder to her chin, as if to hide the obvious mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Not long enough,” Bran countered and crossed his arms as he leaned back.

“Got a minute?”

“A minute?” Bran frowned, looking more closely at the woman in front of him. He disliked how easily he was pulled into the Champion’s games, and he wondered why he had ever given his consent to her request of an arrangement where she could approach him at any time for quick release. She had the worst timing. “You usually need quite a bit more than a minute,” he added.

“How about ten, then... or fifteen?” Hawke leaned forward and put her elbows together against the edge of the desk, knowingly pressing her breasts together under her soft robes.

Bran’s eyes wandered down, and he cursed his own fickle restraint.

“Ten?” he asked incredulously and looked back up. “That’s barely enough time to even get you started. May I remind you of last time you said ten: it went on to twenty. But all the better for me, I suppose. I don’t have all day.” Bran made to get up, but Hawke got up first, rounded the desk just as swiftly, and pushed him back down into his chair.

“Alright. Twenty,” she said decisively. “Enough time for us both to enjoy it. So, Seneschal…” Hawke put one hand on Bran’s chest and let the other comb through his ginger hair. “Do I have twenty minutes of your undivided attention?”

Bran glared up at her, pondering her request. “I can’t promise it will be undivided - you do know I have a lot more to do now because of you, don’t you?”

“Oh, shush now,” Hawke grimaced. “No more talking. We’re on a schedule.” And with that she began unlacing Bran’s trousers as his hands found their way down her thighs to the hem of her robes.

 

The thought that only smallclothes were in the way of him getting into her wet heat made Bran’s loosened trousers feel smaller. He ran his calloused hands up Hawke’s bare thighs and stopped where the fabrics had all become a tangled bunch.

“Lay down,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in the room.

Hawke leaned back to look at him. She let her hands drop from his shoulders and tilted her head to the side. They weren’t undressed yet and he was asking her to lie down?

“Lay down,” Bran repeated. He rose from his chair and pushed Hawke down on her back by pressing himself against her, his hands too busy trying to find the waist of her smallclothes. Lying down made it much easier and Bran soon relieved Hawke of said garment.

Hawke bit her lip and spread her legs invitingly. She watched as Bran pulled his trousers down to his knees and gave himself a handful of firm strokes to make sure he was hard enough to enter.

For a few months now Hawke had interrupted the Seneschal’s work for these dalliances, but the sight of Bran’s hard cock still made her shiver with lust and anticipation when he first released it from its confines. It wasn’t that it was especially large, but something about the way it looked made Hawke think other men should envy him.

Hawke hooked her feet behind Bran’s legs and pulled him closer. He leaned against the desk and grabbed her by the hips to pull her even closer. He adjusted himself so he could push into her with ease. Hawke inhaled audibly. She arched her back off as Bran slowly thrust deeper, his motions smoothened by Hawke’s wetness. Hawke liked it when he entered her front, but the risks were higher and she would have to make sure to clean herself properly afterwards. From behind they wouldn’t have to be so careful, but it required preparation and time they did not have. These were the reasons why Hawke preferred the company of women; no need to fear pregnancy, yet as much - if not more - fun as men.

Hawke thought back to the short time she’d spent with Isabela years ago. It was a pity she had disappeared after having stolen the Qunari relic. Hawke would have liked to get to know her better.

She let her eye slide shut and lost herself in the memories and old fantasies of her and Isabela’s passionate nights together. She knew Bran didn’t mind; he did the same after all, thinking of Serendipity, the expensive prostitute from the Blooming Rose. He had been good at keeping his affair a secret, but as Hawke frequented the Rose as she did, she had overheard a thing or two. Besides, the prostitutes liked to gossip with their best clients. She kept it a secret, though. It was mostly out of amazement that Bran was able to see said person without no one outside the Rose knowing. Either he was simply good at sneaking around, or he paid better than most. Considering the special treatments he got from Serendipity, it was the latter.

Bran slid his hands in under Hawke’s robes, up over her flat stomach, and anchored her to the spot by her waist. Hawke imagined those hands belonging to Isabela. The length rhythmically sliding in and out of her like waves crashing against a rocky shore could have been one of the toys Isabela had mentioned once seeing in a shop in Antiva City; a toy for women to use, strapped onto a harness which was to be tied around the hips to give the impression of her having a member. It was only the occasional moans that made the illusion falter and pulled Hawke back to reality. But it didn’t take long before her mind wandered back to the tanned Captain. The hands on her waist shifted; fingertips and blunt nails dug into her soft flesh. A soft whimper slipped off Hawke’s tongue and she rolled her hips. The hips pushing against her stuttered but did not stop. Hawke tightened her legs around Bran. Bran responded by angling himself the slightest. It sent a new wave of pleasure rippling through Hawke’s body, and her back arched once again off of the cool surface beneath her. She bit her lip and let her hand find their way up her chest, thumbs knowingly grazing her hardened nipples. She continued down to Bran’s hands and up his wrists. She pried him off her hand guided his hands back up to her breasts. Wordlessly, she asked Bran to touch her. Hawke saw Isabela behind her closed eyelids; palms massaging her as thumbs searched for her nipples through the thick fabric of her robes. Hawke shuddered when they brushed over them.

The pace at which flesh collided repeatedly with flesh began to quicken. Hawke felt the heat rise in her body and the familiar coil low between her legs. She wished Bran would kiss her. He was better at that than much else, and it was yet another fantasy she could indulge in. Sher let go of the Seneschal’s wrists and reached up, keeping her eyes closed as not to ruin the image before her.

Bran felt fingers brush his jaw and opened his eyes just enough to see Hawke’s lips part invitingly. His pace slowed as he leaned down and locked his lips with the Champion’s. Tongues slipped out and rolled over and around one another. Bran sighed into Hawke’s mouth, their heavy breaths merging. He revelled in the warmth of it. Her soft lips reminded him of Serendipity’s, and he was lost once again in the fantasies of them lying there beneath him, legs spread at his sides, open for his ministrations.

Bran let go of Hawke’s breasts, to her displeasure judging by her grunt, and raised one hand to tangle and tug at her hair while lowering the other between them. He found Hawke’s most sensitive spot with practiced ease and rubbed gentle circles over it. Hawke moaned, melting on the desk because of his skilled fingers. She could tell why the prostitutes were so fond of him; he’d had plenty of experience.

Breathless and her head beginning to swim, Hawke turned away from Bran’s embrace, her hair tangling in his fingers as she gasped for air. Her chest heaved against his. Bran let out a strangled moan and began to move faster, rapidly closing in on his climax. Hawke grabbed the edge of the desk and held on as she was relentlessly rocked back and forth. Her legs grew tired so she let them fall to Bran’s sides as he gave another thrust and stopped. His body stiffened. His eyes still closed, Serendipity clear in front of him, he sought for something else than Hawke to lean against. One hand slipped on a pile of papers and sent them scattering to the floor, but Bran could not care less. His mouth fell open and a silent gasp escaped as he emptied himself inside Hawke, his hips jerking with the power of his orgasm. Hawke moaned as the heat spread and filled her past the brim and then drooled down her ass.

Bran stayed still until he had come down from the high that numbed his mind. As he pulled out, he opened his eyes to see Hawke looking at him, her bright eyes dark with lust - she was yet to be satisfied. Bran straightened above her and took a step back. Hawke rose onto her elbows, quietly watching him as he sat down in his chair and pulled closer. He hooked his hands under her knees and guided them to rest on his shoulders. He stroked the smooth skin of her thighs as he leaned forward. He pressed his lips to the inside of Hawke’s thigh, peppering kisses roughened by his stubble up the expanse of bare skin. Hawke tipped her head back on her shoulders and closed her eyes, once again imagining her pirate captain as the source of her pleasure. Bran stopped just before reaching her vagina, his lips ghosted over the warm flesh. Hawke shuddered and more of Bran’s come dripped to the floor. Bran let his mouth fall open and reached his tongue out. He licked straight up between the wet folds, frowning as he tasted himself, and pressed the tip firmly against her clit. Hawke’s arms gave way beneath her. She slumped down onto her back. She imagined Isabela’s clever tongue circling the bundle of nerves - she knew exactly the right angle, the right spot and how much pressure to put on it. Her tanned arms wound under and around Hawke’s thighs, hands grasping her hips firmly as her tongue flicked up and down over her clit. Hawke moaned unabashedly, only too late remembering where she was and that there were most likely people in the next room. Bran seemed to remember as well because he reached further up with one hand and placed it over Hawke’s parted lips. Hawke’s breath picked up and became heavier once more as Bran persistently continued his ministrations. She lost track of time, but knew she didn’t have to worry - it was almost over; she was close - her entire body was stiffening, her vagina was softly throbbing. She only needed a little more pressure.

Hawke reached down and combed her fingers through Bran’s hair to pull him closer. It was just enough. She bit her lip to prevent herself from moaning as she came with trembling, rough breaths. Her back arched, her hips rolled, her heels dug into Bran’s back, and her groin twitched against his tongue. She wanted to cry out Isabela’s name but held back as best as she could. Only a soft whimper managed to escape before her body went limp. She lay still as she caught her breath. Bran leaned back in his seat, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. He pulled a neatly folded handkerchief out of his pocket and dried his hands off on the soft cloth. He looked at Hawke, at the expanse of bare skin lain out before him, at her legs still spread over the edge of the desk. He leaned forward and raised the handkerchief to her thighs. He gently stroked it under her ass where most of the come had pooled, and up between her legs.

A smile spread across Hawke’s lips. “What’s this?” she wondered in a teasing tone. It usually happened that Hawke was left to take care of herself. Maybe Bran was still lost in his fantasies. Whichever it was, Hawke didn’t mind. This was the kindest gesture anyone had done for her after sex in a while.

“If you don’t like it, I can stop,” Bran countered.

“No, no, not at all.”

Hawke closed her eyes as Bran finished cleaning her up.

“By the way, I was at the Rose the other night,” Hawke said nonchalantly, and Bran found himself wondering why she even bothered seeing him when she could get just as much entertainment there. “I heard Serendipity ask for you,” Hawke continued as she got off the desk, pulled her smallclothes on and rearranged her robes. “I recall them saying: ‘I haven’t seen the Seneschal lately. I hope the man hasn’t gone _religious_.’ You should’ve heard the way they said it, like you had committed a crime.” She chuckled softly.

Bran, who’d started picking up the documents off the floor, stopped and looked up. “She did?” he asked, focused only on the part of being asked after.

“ _They_ did,” Hawke replied, emphasising the correction. “It’s too bad really... that they can’t come and go like I can without all eyes on them and rumours immediately spreading. I’m sure you’d both enjoy it.”

“It is difficult to get out with all the work you’re giving me,” Bran muttered, all affection towards the Champion gone with the wind as he was reminded of how much he missed Serendipity’s company.

There was a pause as Hawke sauntered over to the door and unlocked it.

“Then I just won’t come any more,” she said quietly, turned away from the Seneschal. The constant dull ache in her chest when she thought of her love somewhere out there made Hawke sigh heavily, and she thought that Bran might’ve been feeling something similar. So a moment earlier she had decided: she had to stop dreaming - she would let Bran and her arrangement be forgotten.

Bran leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. A frown creased his brow as he tried to think of a reason for Hawke to end things between them. He was pleased, but it bothered him that she didn’t explain.

“Go to the Rose,” Hawke said and looked over her shoulder. A gentle smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she left.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you wish to spread this on tumblr, please reblog it from me: [lustfullygazing](http://lustfullygazing.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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